The Angel and the Outcast
by KatieCullen96
Summary: The Doctor found her, saved her. But now it was his turn to be saved.
1. Cal Grane Institution

**So this is post-Martha but pre-Donna companion wise so yeah that's it. Enjoy**

Cal Grane Institution

The Doctor found himself on Earth. In the United States to be exact. In Tennessee in front of a mental institution to be exactly exact. The Doctor didn't know why he was here; the TARDIS brought him. Apparently she had plans for him.

"Excuse me," The Doctor said to a young boy who was passing him. "What is today's date?"

"January 13," the boy replied.

"No, no, no, what year?"

"2013," the boy replied, eyeing the Doctor skeptically.

"Brilliant! I love the twenty-first century. Filled with exciting places and experiences!"

The boy turned and quickly walked away. "Belongs in Grane." The boy muttered to himself.

The Doctor turned back to the large grey building in front of him. _Grane Mental Institution _the sign read. There was a garden in the front that looked like it was trimmed daily, it even had a water fountain. The Doctor loved fountains.

But why had the TARDIS brought him here? The Doctor was going to 1841 and meeting Edgar Allan Poe, but she had taken him well over a hundred years past that date. And why did she bring him to a mental institution? Was she trying to send him a message? The Doctor chuckled to himself. Of course the TARDIS thought he was insane.

The Doctor walked towards the tall grey doors. He wrenched the door open, revealing a small waiting room. A middle aged woman, whose name tag read Clare Gan, was sitting behind a desk. She looked up, startled, when the Doctor walked in Now why would a receptionist jump at the sight of a man entering?" the Doctor wondered. "Shouldn't there be visitors coming in and out of here constantly?"

The receptionist managed to muster a smile, despite how caught off guard she was. "I'm sorry sir, but visiting day isn't until Wednesday."

Now why would they only allow visitors once a week? And why was she so surprised? The Doctor glanced passed the receptionist to a large steel door almost directly behind her desk. Now, the question is, are they trying to keep someone in or out? Curiosity had overcome the Doctor. Poe was going to have to wait; he had to solve this conundrum first.

"I'm not here to visit," the Doctor said, holding up his psychic paper for the woman to see. "I'm the new doctor."

"Of course Dr. Smith," the receptionist said. "I didn't know we were hiring a new doctor."

"Oh, yes, yes," the Doctor said quickly. .

"I'm not here to visit," the Doctor said, holding up his psychic paper for the woman to see. "I'm the new doctor."

"Of course Dr. Smith," the receptionist said. "I didn't know we were hiring a new doctor."

"Oh, yes, yes," the Doctor said quickly. "This was all very last minute."

"Of course," the receptionist said skeptically. "Just let me go get Dr. Grane. I'll be right back." The Doctor nodded and grinned while the woman scurried over to the steel door. She took a key out from her pocket and quickly slipped through the door.

The receptionist quickly walked down the hall, to the last door on the right. She knocked twice, but didn't bother to wait for a reply. She shoved open the door revealing a tall man sitting behind a desk. The man hand cropped pepper colored hair, even though he didn't seem to be over the age of thirty, and eyes so dark that they were almost black.

"We have a problem," she said. "There is a man in the waiting room claiming to be a newly hired doctor."

The man turned to his computer and pulled up security footage of the waiting room. The Doctor was milling around the room, making sure he did not miss anything. The Doctor looked directly at the camera in the room and gave it a quick wave, before giggling, like it was some private joke.

"It's probably another one of _them_," the man said. The man clasped his hands together. "Send him in,"

"But sir, if he's her for her then-"

The man interrupted her. "Then that's what will give him," he said with a devilish smirk on his face.

"but-"

"Do not make me repeat myself," the man said. "Now!" the receptionist quickly scurried out of the room and practically ran to the waiting room.

"Right this way," the woman said, gesturing for the Doctor to follow her.

"Brilliant," the Doctor said, grinning. The receptionist led him to the same room she had just exited. While walking through the hall the Doctor glanced through one of the windows into what seemed like the "recreations" room. It seemed like most of the patients here were in there, drawing, reading, or just staring at the walls. But, there was one person that the Doctor noticed. Well two of them actually, a boy and a girl. They didn't look to be older than sixteen. Why were two people so young trapped in this place? The Doctor wondered. Most of the other patients were over the age of twenty-five, so why were these to here. The Doctor didn't have long to linger, the receptionist hurried him along the corridor. She held a door open for the Doctor and he quickly walked through it.

The man sitting behind the desk didn't bother to stand up when the Doctor enter. He simply gestured for the Doctor to sit down in an old raggedy looking chair. The plaque on the man's desk read "Cal Grane, Ph.D.".

"So Dr.-?"

"Smith. Doctor Smith." The Doctor said extending his hand. Dr. Grane made no move to shake his hand. The Doctor lowered his hand, with a grin still plastered on his face.

"Yes, Dr. Smith. Well we're lucky you could make it on such short notice." Grane said. "You see one of our other doctors quit just last week, couldn't handle the pressure of this job I guess," he leaned forward. "We're not going to have that kind of problem with you, are we Doctor?"

The Doctor shook his head. "No. No. of course not. I'm here to stay. Here to help."

"May I see you credentials?"

"Of course. Of course, I can't believe you didn't ask sooner." The Doctor said, handing him the physic paper.

"Yes. Yes." Dr. Grane said, staring intently at the paper. "Well these all seem to be in order. Now for your patients." He said while handing the paper back to the Doctor. "You'll only have two patients, but you will have to lead group discussions among other things. Your patients files are in your office, which is being set up as we speak. While we are setting everything up, please feel free to go observe in the activity room." The Doctor nodded and headed out the door.

Once inside the "activity room", the Doctor was once again drawn to the two people from before. They were sitting on a rather beaten couch. The boy had shaggy blond hair and bright blue eyes. He was staring at the girl with concern. The girl's back was turned towards him, so he couldn't see her face. He couldn't tell what was wrong with her.

The Doctor was about to go over and introduce himself, but before he could the receptionist called him and led him to his new office. The room was small with a lamp, desk, chair, and one small grey couch.

"Here are your patients files," the receptionist said, shoving two folders into his hands. "Your first patient will be in soon." She turned and briskly walked out of the room.

The Doctor opened the first folder. The file was for a girl named Samara Pearson. She was seventeen. Inside were her medical records and on simple line. "Has nightmares. Refuses to talk about them."

The Doctor was sitting behind the desk, trying to fix his chair, when the girl from the activity room walked in. She had what looked to be a copy of _Julius Caesar_. Upon closer inspection, the Doctor noticed that she had just hidden a journal inside the cover of the book.

The girl, Samara, perched on the edge of the couch, like she was ready to take flight at any second. Samara had long hair so dark it almost looked black, and the deepest green eyes the Doctor had ever seen. It was like looking into a forest. She stared at the Doctor, like she was waiting for something. She also had dark circles under her eyes. it looked like she hadn't slept in months.

"Hello. I'm the Doctor. And you're Samara?"

She nodded but didn't say anything.

"Right then, not going to talk. You don't happen to know how to fix this chair do you?" the Doctor asked, wiggling one of the levers on the chair, making him sink towards the floor. A ghost of a smile passed Samara's lips., but she still didn't speak.

The Doctor eventually stopped fiddling with the chair and stood up. "How old are you?"

"Shouldn't you know that from my file?" Samara said quietly, gesturing towards the papers on his desk.

"Right.' He said grinning. Then why don't you tell me why you're in here? And I know it's in your file, but I want to hear it from you,"

Samara was quiet for a moment. "They think I'm crazy." She said simply.

"Are you?"

"Who isn't?"  
The Doctor grinned. Samara smiled back ever so slightly.

"in your file, not that I trust your file, there wasn't much in there, but it said that you've been having nightmares," Samara's smile faded and her posture became even more tense, which the Doctor didn't believe was possible. "Okay not talking about nightmares. I bet you don't get asked about this a lot, what about your dreams. What do you dream about?" she stayed silent. "You can trust me Samara." This girl was stuck hiding in a shell and she needed to stop hiding.

"I have a hard time remembering my dreams now, because of them," Samara said quietly. The Doctor was going to ask her to elaborate, but decided against it. She was talking and he didn't want her to stop. "But when I do dream its always about the same thing."

"And what's that?" the Doctor asked.

"A man in a blue box,"


	2. Dreams

Dreams

The Doctor sat there for a moment, gaping. Why was this girl dreaming about him? Is she really dreaming about him or is it just a coincidence? Nonsense, the Doctor didn't believe in coincidences. But was it really him? If so, why didn't she recognize him? Is she just dreaming of some random blue box with a man living inside it?  
The Doctor quickly recovered from his initial shock. "What do you mean by 'box'?" he asked.

"It kind of looks like one of those old timey telephone boxes. You know like the one's Superman changes in, I guess that's what he does in there, except it says 'Police Call Box' on it," Samara said. Why was she telling him this? She has never told anyone, except Aaron, about her dreams.

"And this man, what does he look like?" she must be dreaming about one of his other regenerations. She would've said something otherwise.

Samara stared down at her feet. "You'll think I'm crazy, if you don't already,"

The Doctor walked to the front of his desk, closer to her. "Now didn't we just agree that everyone's crazy?"

She ran a hand through her hair, and sighed. "It's not just one man. I mean, it is, but it isn't. He…changes his appearance, but I know it's still him,"

"Are you in these dreams, or is it just him?"

"It's not just him,"

"But you're not in these dreams?"

Samara shook her head.

"What does this man do in these dreams,"

She shrugged. "Different things,"

"Such as," The Doctor prompted. He needed her to mention something specific. Her dreaming about him was one thing, but if she was dreaming about his past, about things that had actually happened. And what if she's dreaming about his future?

"He saves people," She turned the journal over in her hands. She wanted, no she needed to trust the Doctor, but you didn't know if she could, if she should. The only person who has ever seen her journal is Aaron. Aaron was the only person Samara has trusted since her mother put her in this place.

Samara was shutting the Doctor out, he could tell. Her answers were getting shorter, curt. He had to broach her carefully, like a wounded animal, or she would never trust him.

"Samara-"

"It's Sam," she interrupted.

"Sorry?"

"Call me Sam,"

"Well Sam-" the Doctor was once again cut off, this time because of a knock on the door. The receptionist opened the door without waiting for a reply.

"Your next patient is waiting, Doctor," she stated flatly.

Sam stood up abruptly and quickly walked to the door.

"Well, until tomorrow then," the Doctor called after her. She didn't bother to respond.

Aaron Stanton was leaning against the wall directly across from the Doctor's door. He stared at Samara as she walked by, barely glancing at him. They couldn't talk, not with the receptionist standing beside Aaron. Sam turned glanced back when she got to the end of the hall and nodded at Aaron, telling him that the new doctor just might be okay.

Aaron's session with the Doctor was much less enlightening than Sam's. Aaron barely said two words to the Doctor. For the first fifteen minutes of the session, he just stared when the Doctor tried asking him questions.

"So you obviously don't want to talk about yourself, I understand that. You don't know me, you have absolutely no reason to trust me. Don't get me wrong, you can trust me, but that is just the thing an untrustworthy person would say, isn't it? But it's the truth. You can trust me. I'm her to help you. You and Sam,"

That got Aaron's attention. "She let you call her Sam?"

The Doctor smiled slightly and nodded. "She insisted on it. Surprised?"

"She's barely ever talked to the other Doctors," Aaron muttered.

"The doctors around here are a bit strange aren't they? I mean I've only met Dr. Grane but still,"

Aaron grimaced. "Grane is the only reason-" he was cut off by a swift knock on the door. Again the receptionist refused to wait for a reply before entering.

"Time's up, Doctor Smith," Aaron just rolled his eyes before sauntering out the door.

The Doctor glanced at the clock; they still had twenty more minutes in the session.

These people were hiding something, and it had something to do with that girl.

* * *

Later in the afternoon the Doctor watched as all of the patients, there were only about fifteen of them, gathered in the activity room and sat on the floor in a circle. One of the doctors held a group session every week the Doctor was told. Aaron and Sam were the last ones to join the circle. They sat as close as they could to each other, Sam still had the journal clutched to her chest.

Another doctor sat at the center of the circle and grinned broadly at all of the people. "Hello everyone! I hope everyone's week was just fantastic!" he said too enthusiastically. It was unnatural. "Well, as always, I'd like to go around the room and have everybody tell the group one good thing that happened this week," he preceded to scope the room. "Aaron! Let's start with you,"

Aaron cleared his throat. "Well, um, Dr. Gale, I didn't have any murderous thoughts this week. Well maybe once or twice," Samara rolled her eyes.

"Well that's good," Dr. Gale's enthusiasm only faltered slightly. The Doctor was slightly impressed. "Samara?"

"Nothing good ever happens here," Sam replied.

"Now you know that's not true!" Gale said. "I heard you have a new psychiatrist. How is that going?"

Sam just shrugged and played with the loose strings in the carpet. Dr. Gale just grinned and continued around the circle.

* * *

It was almost midnight and the Doctor was still sitting in his cramped office. I mean, where else could he go? He could stay in the TARDIS but if anyone from Grane saw him walking out of that then, they'd suspect something. They were already suspicious of him, he could tell. He also wanted to snoop in Dr. Grane's office. They were interested in Samara, and the Doctor needed to know why.

Forty-five minutes later the Doctor was about to get into Dr. Grane's office. But he didn't make it into the office. Instead, the Doctor found himself sprinting down the hall after hearing a blood-curdling scream.

**So…still interested?**


End file.
